


take this load (carry it with me)

by theoneinquisitor



Series: tumblr prompts [1]
Category: The 100
Genre: Bellarke, F/M, Tumblr Prompt, canonverse, in which he doesn't leave after the hand nuzzle, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 14:13:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10538154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoneinquisitor/pseuds/theoneinquisitor
Summary: the bellarke hand-nuzzle scene plus extra. prompt.





	

ake this load (carry it with me)

CLARKE GRIFFIN.

Her own name looks foreign on the page. It stands out from the other 99, written lightly and in her own loopy lettering. Her name is bold. Each letter written firmly in straight capital letters. She can’t take her eyes from it. She can’t meet his eyes. Choosing who gets to live or die is your specialty, Raven’s words ring in her ears. Maybe it is.

The author snaps the pen cap on with finality and lays it in her line of sight. He doesn’t say anything and she knows it’s a dare. He is daring her to challenge him. If I’m on the list, you’re on the list. If she were to simply scratch out her name, he would do the same. They will either live together or die together so she has no choice but to accept it. It’s written with such certitude, written the same way he has said her name so many times: challenging and resolute. Bellamy Blake is her partner in leadership and her foil. He is her strength in so many ways but also her weakness. He only proved that by writing her name under his.

Damn him, is her only thought in this moment, damn him for doing what she couldn’t and what she wants at the same time. What hurts the most, if she is honest, isn’t that she took a spot from someone else who most definitely deserves it but that after writing his name, she wanted desperately to write her own. She did not think of the blood.covering her hands nor the infinite reasons why she deserved to stay behind. She looked at his name and couldn’t imagine it without her own. Bellamy and Clarke. It’s not how it’s supposed to be, but she can’t help but feel that it is. If I’m on the list, you’re on the list, he solidified.

What does she do now with this revelation? It’s a leap in a direction neither of them can go. Not with the end of the world nipping at their heels. The end of the world is always one step in front of them. Grounders. Mountain Men. Radiation. It’s so heavy.

As if sensing her internal dilemma (as he usually does), Bellamy’s hand slips onto her shoulder and gives her a reassuring squeeze. She closes her eyes and focuses on the touch. She feels her body relax into him and her mind clears ever so slightly. He lingers only for a moment and just as he begins to pull away, she places her hand on his and rubs his knuckles soothingly hoping she can return the favor in someway because she knows he too is feeling that same weight. She glances up and his brows are pulled together in either concentration or confusion (his face is often hard to read). She knows he is probably thrown by this display of vulnerability by her, but she has let her walls down and doesn’t want to put them up quite yet. It feels good to be this way –just Clarke. Not Wanheda. Not Chancellor. A human being who is afraid.

She allows her head to fall onto their touch and she closes her eyes. It feels strange to be so open, so free with her touches and her tears. Yet, it feels natural.. Aftershe left him for all those months, she thought they’d never get this back again, this comfortability and intimacy they had gained in their joint leadership. She had accepted the separation as a permanent scar in their relationship but he has shown her forgiveness so many times since. She doesn’t deserve it. She doesn’t deserve him and she should pull away now and absolutely not go there. Wherever there is, she isn’t sure, but it exists.

When he pulls away first and tells her to get some rest, she can’t just let that be that. Not right now. He moves to leave and before she knows what’s happening she stands from the desk, the tears dry on her cheeks, and asks him to stay. Her voice is small and hoarse. It’s weak.

He looks back at her apprehensively, like he isn’t sure that it’s what she really wants or that’s she’s thinking clearly. He seems cautious to go there as well and that’s a good thing. For now, though, they both need rest and to be quite honest, she won’t be able to rest alone. She gives him a half smile and references their earlier conversation.

“We both deserve a break, remember?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer, but turns back to the list and folds it in half. She doesn’t want to look at it anymore. She hears the soft thump of the couch as Bellamy falls into it again and breathes lightly. She thought he might have left anyway (he would follow her to the ends of the earth, but she doesn’t know that).

She places the list inside the desk with the intent to move it later. When she sits next to him, it isn’t on the opposite side. No, they are hip to hip, thigh to thigh. She doesn’t think about the implications of each move, doesn’t question her touch. She lays her head on his shoulder, he moves his arm around her, and they breathe. They don’t talk. They don’t need to. Will they talk about this moment later? This shift in their partnership (neither knows that’s what it is yet)? Probably not. She is still grieving, after all. Time will keep ticking and they have people to save. For now, this is enough. The cramped sofa, their steady breathing, the way his fingers twitch against her lower back and her head finds its way into the crook of his neck. Together.

She isn’t sure how long they stay there wrapped in the comfort of one another, but it seems as though she has only dozed off when Monty finds them and let’s them know they are needed in medical. He doesn’t meet their eyes and shuffles from the room. They move quickly, she wipes the edge of her mouth where she had begun to drool and he pulls on his jacket. They nod at one another. Back to work, it seems to say. They don’t talk about it.


End file.
